


Wake Up

by bekkers29



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bekkers29/pseuds/bekkers29
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is it fate or chance? Not even Flemeth can always decide. Should you pull one thread and insert another, how would the tapestry change? A retelling of the events of The Righteous Path and the Awakening end-game quests, continuing into the epilogue. Some game dialogue will be used. May be the first in a series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

One by one, her compatriots fell. The darkspawn were far too numerous, and her fellows were even more woefully unprepared than she'd feared they would be (not that the arrogant bastards had cared to heed her warnings). Dispatching her current foe, she spared half a moment for a head count. Including herself, only three of them still lived, and the other two were back to back and surrounded by a tightening knot of at least eight darkspawn.

"No," she muttered to herself. She did not survive Ostagar and everything that followed only to die here for someone else's reckless stupidity. Steeling her resolve, she rolled to avoid a hurlock's swipe and rose to find two genlocks moving in to flank. With a fierce cry, she rushed them and, at the last moment, vaulted over their ugly, deformed heads and then melted into the shadows. Her fellow mercenaries' dying screams rang in her ears as she fled the field, but she would live to fight another day.


	2. The Path of the Righteous

"This place is a death trap," Anders fretted, gripping his staff tightly as they gazed out at a blighted pit full of corpses. "If I have to step into the bushes to answer nature's call, someone's coming with me."

"As you're so easily frightened, perhaps you should have stayed in the Circle where you'd be safe," Nathaniel jabbed, Anders' complaints and so-called humor long since having worn on his nerves.

The Warden-Commander, who had seen first-hand the sort of safety one could expect to find in Ferelden's Circle Tower, knew damned well how stupid a thing that had been to say, but even she was surprised by the sudden venom in Anders' expression, not to mention concerned by the faint, but noticeable, electrical charge in the air. Maker, if she didn't separate those two soon… "Nathaniel, that was unworthy of you," Elissa told him sharply.

Exhaling slowly, the archer turned away. "It was. My apologies," he told Anders shortly, but then he paused, something catching his eye, and then moved off, soon kneeling to examine one of the corpses. "Commander, over here. This isn't Fereldan armor, and look, there are at least three others clad similarly. I think we've found that mercenary company that Mervis mentioned, poor sods."

"We really should go back and find that elf," Anders piped in, his usual easy-going charm returning. "She needs to know it was the darkspawn who attacked, and not the humans."

"Indeed," Justice added solemnly. "We must stop her from attacking more innocents."

"Agreed," Elissa said, though she paused to search the bodies, and was saddened to find a bloodied sketch of a smiling woman with a baby and a few other family keepsakes among the mercenaries' belongings. "For their families' sakes, we'll see these men avenged as well."

She bowed her head for a few moments and, without another word, led the way back to the Dalish camp. With the darkspawn, blight wolves, and sylvans dead, the Wood was eerily quiet. Though only a few patches of land had been poisoned, it seemed the birds and other small creatures had already fled.

Only when their destination was in sight did Nathaniel break the silence. "Strange," he whispered. "I was expecting an attack."

"She may yet," Elissa warned softly. Sword drawn and shield raised, she stepped past the now familiar sword embedded in the ground. She stopped short, however, for instead of the angry elf they were expecting, they found a lone figure in blood-soaked merc armor kneeling beside a corpse, her head bowed as if in prayer.

With a sharp cry, the woman leapt to her feet, drawing twin daggers as she turned to face them. She was slender for a human, with pale skin and cropped black hair on the verge of falling into bright sapphire blue eyes, and Anders' startled gasp and inarticulate whimper had Elissa stifling a grin. Even blood-spattered and poised to attack, the woman was a stunning beauty.

"Not darkspawn," she said with an audible sigh, sheathing her weapons. Hands raised in supplication, she added, "I didn't do it."

At the familiar phrase, Anders let out a single sharp bark of laughter.

"Yes, we…" Elissa began, but the stranger continued.

"Well, I mean, yes, I killed that woman," she said, gesturing toward the very elf who'd been attacking the caravans, "but in my defense, she was clearly mad and attacked me first. I even pointed out that only an utter moron could have missed how obviously staged this scene was," she added, gesturing next to the discarded Fereldan equipment, "but I don't think she appreciated the observation."

"You called her a moron, and yet wonder why she attacked you?" Nathaniel scoffed.

"What are you doing?" Anders whispered, elbowing the other man in the ribs. "Pretty girl! Don't be an… Actually, no. _Be_ an arse; that could work in my favor."

"Give me a little credit; I didn't _lead_ with that," she laughed, and then pulled a face. "The nutter was already trying to kill me by the time I started hurling insults."

"You sound Fereldan, but your armor isn't," Elissa cut in, smiling briefly at a mental image of her husband seizing upon the idea of weaponized insults. "We found a number of dead mercenaries, similarly clad, not far from here."

"I am Fereldan, it's a long story, and as there's no telling when the darkspawn will return, I'd rather not stick around long enough to tell it," the woman replied, finally relaxing her guard enough to show the pain she was in. "And, not to be rude, but could any of you spare a poultice?"

"I can do far better than that, my lady," Anders said proudly, approaching to work his magic.

"Oh, you are gorgeous; thank you," she breathed, her eyes fluttering closed as the pain lessened. When only a dull ache remained, she opened them again and looked up, their eyes meeting, and she let out a soft whimper. "Big brown eyes and pretty eyebrows, too. That's just not playing fair."

"It's about time someone noticed," he replied with a self-satisfied smirk. "I am also Anders. And you are?"

"Interested," she returned, voice still low. Blinking once, she seemed to recall their audience and spoke up. "I'm Hawke, Abigail Hawke - Abbie to my friends. Native of Ferelden, lately indentured to the Red Iron, a merc band out of Kirkwall. We were only meant to be guarding a shipment across the Waking Sea, but the ship was to stay in port for two weeks and our idiot captain had the bright idea of making a little extra coin."

"The long story you mentioned," Elissa noted. "I am Warden-Commander Elissa Theirin, and we also came to investigate the attacks. We thought this woman was responsible for all of the carnage, just as she assumed the humans were."

"But we investigated and discerned that this was a trap set by the darkspawn, and we did not attack her outright," Justice added indignantly.

"At a guess, I would suggest that you had the benefit of being neither mad nor set on exacting vengeance," Abbie offered, and then she took a knee and bowed to Elissa. "Your Majesty, I apologize for interrupting you."

"Oh, no, please don't do that. Unlike Alistair, I'm still an active member of the Grey Wardens. You needn't use my title," Elissa insisted, grinning as she extended a hand to the other woman. "Besides, I have too damn many of them and your talking over me was sort of funny. Still, to return to business. You were kneeling beside her body earlier. Did she tell you anything at all?"

"Mostly that her gods would wreak vengeance upon me," Abbie shrugged. "But she also lamented having failed her sister, Seranni. I… may have sworn to either rescue the girl or avenge her death."

"And yet you mentioned leaving," Nathaniel spoke up.

"Well, yes. Silly me, I know, wanting some actual backup before I went off hunting darkspawn," Abbie replied dryly, rolling her eyes. " You had yet to mention being Grey Wardens when I said that, and I'd thought to appeal to your Order at Vigil's Keep."

"Can we keep her?" Anders asked hopefully, Ser Pounce-a-lot mewing apparent agreement from inside his pack.

"We must aid this woman," Justice added. "While the elf earned her end, avenging her sister's death is a worthy goal."

"A fair point," Nathaniel muttered. "The darkspawn probably came from that abandoned mine," he added, gesturing behind them.

As if on cue, an ogre emerged from the mine, with several more darkspawn pouring out behind him.

Abbie darted past the Wardens, running full-bore at the darkspawn. At the last moment, she ducked into a somersault, coming up behind the ogre to embed her daggers in its ankles. With a bellow, the creature toppled forward, and she then leapt onto its back, shoving both blades into its skull, and then rolled off, narrowly avoiding a blast from a hurlock emissary.

The emissary was not so lucky, taking the full force of Anders' answering blast. "Suck on a fireball!"

"Oh yes, we can definitely keep her," Elissa muttered, half to herself, as she joined the fight.

"Another one for me!" Abbie called out a moment later. "We're keeping score, right?"

"From this point forward or total darkspawn killed?" Anders called back, and then he pivoted, catching a genlock with his staff blade. "Die, bastard!"

"If it means I can count Ostagar, let's go with totals!" Abbie shouted. "Another falls!"

When the last of their foes lay dead at their feet, Justice wiped off his sword. "It seems we are victorious."

Wiping her own blade, Elissa turned to watch Abbie, the other woman wiping her faceplate clean before she raised it. "You were at Ostagar?"

"Yeah, and I heard the king beheaded Loghain Mac Turned-Out-to-Be-a-Real-Arsehole," she replied, scowling. "Good riddance."

"I quite agree," Elissa sighed. She contemplated the mine for a few moments, and then pulled her archer off to the side. Privately relieved to have found a reason to separate Nathaniel and Anders, she instructed him to return to Vigil's Keep as swiftly and quietly as possible and apprise the Seneschal of the situation, and also transferred the sylvan samples and etchings they'd collected to his pack.

"So, um… Not to pry," Abbie said warily as the others moved off, having at last gotten a proper look at Justice.

"I am a spirit of justice," he began, by now used to explaining what had occurred.

By the time Elissa returned, the others seemed to be chatting amiably. Mentally crossing her fingers, she sent up a silent prayer. _Please, Maker, let these three get on well. I can only bear so much arguing_.

"Oh, yes, you are such a pretty boy," Abbie was saying, Ser Pounce-a-lot purring happily in her arms. "Perhaps it's for the best that I left Fluffy at home to look after Mother and Bethany."

"Fluffy?" Anders asked curiously. "You have a cat, too?"

"No! Fluffy's my mabari," Abbie replied, laughing. "He has the most beautiful, fluffy golden coat you'll ever see on a mabari."

"Mine's called Bruno," Elissa mentioned. "Though I wish I _hadn't_ left him at home."

"Bruno," Abbie replied, scrunching her nose. "How depressingly ordinary."

"Yes, well, that's me. Depressingly ordinary," Elissa joked, laughing even as she shook her head. "Shall we?"

With that, the Commander led the way into the abandoned mine, her senses on full alert. "There are darkspawn nearby," she whispered, descending the stairs. "I am uncertain how many."

"A lot of them, got it," Abbie muttered as they reached the base of the stairs, her attention split between watching for traps and scouting the perimeter. "Above us, trap!" she hissed.

"Shh, sleep," said the darkspawn emissary that stepped out on a ledge above them. It stretched out its hand, and a glyph appeared beneath the Wardens (and their plus one). Soon, all fell unconscious.


	3. Out of Mine

Elissa groaned; her head was throbbing, but the sound of familiar voices encouraged her to join them. She cracked one eye open and, when her head did not explode, the other, though she waited for the world to swim back into focus before sitting up.

"No, it really is quite fetching on you," Anders was saying.

"Oh please, it's the ugliest dress ever and we both know it. Good to have you back with us, Your Majestic Commanding Hero-ship, by the way," Abbie said with a wink, reaching out to pet the kitty who was perched on Anders' shoulder. "Still, the darkspawn did dress us after taking our gear. Of everything, I think that shocks me the most."

"I thought you would appreciate it," came a soft voice, a young elven woman approaching their cell. "Are you all right? You have to understand; he's not trying to hurt you."

"You… Are you Seranni?" Abbie asked, looking over the elf's greying skin and cloudy eyes. It seemed she'd be avenging the girl after all.

"You know Velanna? Where is she?" Seranni asked.

"I'm sorry, but your sister is dead," Elissa replied gently.

"I… I see. So many terrible things have happened," Seranni said, her tone more resigned than sad. "I wish I hadn't…"

"What have they done?" Elissa wondered, looking her over. "This is… You seem different from other women I've seen affected by the taint."

"They haven't done anything. I'm fine. It's not me he wants," the ghoul replied matter-of-factly. Producing a key, she unlocked their cell door. "I can't talk for long. They'll come for you soon."

"Do you know where our equipment is being kept?" Elissa asked.

"The darkspawn have your things. You can get it all back if you're careful and clever," Seranni told them, and then she gasped and looked back over her shoulder, several seconds _before_ any noise came from the room. "They're going to come back to check on you. You have to hurry!"

"Please tell me what's going on," Elissa implored, not letting on her certainty that they were being played with. "You must know something."

"I… don't know anything, but take this key," Seranni said, holding it out to Elissa. "It opens a chest in the Emissary's room. Maybe you'll find some answers there."

"And how did you get this?" Elissa asked in turn, raising an eyebrow.

"I… found it," Seranni replied haltingly, and then looked back when there was another noise. "They're coming! You have to go. Find a way out of the mines. Please!" With that, the girl ran off.

"She's a terrible liar," Abbie observed once she had gone. "Begs the question: what's her boss playing at?"

"Good question. The Emissary who appeared before we lost consciousness spoke with me briefly. It must be the one they call the Architect. It's clearly intelligent, but what it wants with us remains a mystery," Elissa said, opening their cell door. Right on cue, a nearby door opened and several (easily dispatched) darkspawn rushed to attack them.

"We are here for your convenience," Abbie quipped once they were down, reaching for a pair of daggers. "Please do take our…ugh, positively dreadful shite, as we shall no longer have need of it. One serviceable helmet, but no faceplates. Hm," she muttered, and then tore a long strip from her skirt to fashion into a makeshift mask.

"About that Architect fellow, by the way. It seems intelligent for a darkspawn, sure, but it clearly has no concept of subtlety or nuance," Anders said. "Bet its lies will be as transparent as the Chantry's," he muttered to himself.

"So, transparent enough that most people would still fall for them?" Abbie muttered back, so focused on tying off her mask that she missed Anders' stunned look.

"Spirits do not understand those things, either," Justice pointed out. He seemed almost sad, but it was hard to tell.

"Neither do children, but they learn," Elissa assured him. "If you keep asking questions, who's to say that you can't, too?"

"Hm, perhaps," Justice replied simply.

As they progressed through the mine, the group encountered not only darkspawn, but a series of ghouls equipped with their belongings, as well as a lone survivor from Vigil's Keep, though sadly the man was too near death for healing magic, and asked them only to find (which they did) and return his wedding ring to his wife.

"So, I'm curious," Anders eventually said, watching as their commander looked through the chest Seranni's key had opened. "Why _are_ we going in the direction they've been herding us? As traps go, it's a fairly obvious one."

"True," Elissa agreed, pocketing a letter to examine when they were back at the Vigil. "I'm only sensing a few more darkspawn, though. It may be something else that's waiting for us, and I'd like to know what this Architect is capable of throwing our way."

"Best be careful, then, as you both seem to want the same thing," Abbie cautioned. "Each group we've fought through has been a little tougher than the last. _Our_ capabilities are being tested, and I'm not convinced we should be playing along."

"Regardless, this nest did need to be cleared out," Justice intoned.

"Exactly," Elissa said, holding up a hand when Abbie opened her mouth again. "But your point was well made. As Anders said earlier, this creature lacks subtlety. We know what he wants from this confrontation, so how do we avoid giving it to him?

"Well, what if we simply hold back however and whenever we can?" Anders suggested. "Whatever this thing throws at us, we don't let it see what we're truly capable of."

"Unless it's the only thing standing between us and death, I agree," Elissa said, finally standing up. "That's our strategy. Let's get this done."


	4. Fireside Chats

In the end, "That was far more irritating than it was difficult," was all Elissa had to say of fighting a pair of adolescent dragons.

"I think we made it _look_ suitably difficult, though," Anders said, blinking hard as they emerged from the mine into bright sunlight.

"See, if this Architect was actually smart, he'd have waited until we were blinded like this to attack," Abbie noted, raising a hand to shield her eyes.

"Let's just be grateful that he isn't, then," Elissa suggested, starting off. "There's a good spot for a camp near the edge of the wood; we should be able to reach it before nightfall."

The group made good time, reaching their camp a full hour before sunset despite two of their number repeatedly lagging behind, as Abbie and Anders spent the entire trek engrossed in quiet conversation. Somewhere along the way, one had taken the other's hand, which Elissa could not help but find adorable.

The four together made short work of setting up, and the mortals pooled resources, sitting down to what was still something of a meager dinner, but good company and a warm fire made almost anything bearable.

"Is it sad that today was the most fun I've had in over a year?" Abbie wondered, tearing off a hunk of bread.

"The saddest thing I've heard all day," Anders said at once, though he did flash a rather saucy grin. "But, if the two of us put our heads together, I'll bet we could find something even more fun to do than kill darkspawn."

"Well, I don't think it's sad at all," Elissa said, just resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the mage. "The four of us worked quite well together. That sort of… easy camaraderie is rare, and always missed when it's gone."

"That's part of it," Abbie said, her smile turning wistful. "The other is feeling like what I'm doing is worthwhile. Sometimes I wonder if we should've signed up with the smuggler who offered to pay our way into Kirkwall, but that seemed even shadier than mercenary work. And I'm already looking forward to that," she added to Anders.

"They offered to pay your way in?" Justice asked, choosing a spot downwind so as not to ruin the mortals' appetites with his body's increasingly unpleasant odor. "I am not certain if I understand."

"They offered to pay the guard the necessary bribe," Abbie explained.

"So, the city guards were extorting money from the Fereldan refugees," Elissa muttered in disgust. "I wish I could honestly say that surprised me."

"Corruption does seem to run pretty deep in Kirkwall," Abbie replied wearily. "They justified it by saying those who couldn't pay represented a significant burden on the city's resources."

"A disgusting practice," Justice scoffed.

"I wish we could bring all of the refugees home," Elissa told them softly. "Sadly, all of our time and resources have been going into the rebuilding efforts here. I shall have to speak with Alistair about…"

"No, Your Majesty, please," Abbie interrupted, the title slipping out unbidden. "Our people aren't bitter or angry with you or King Alistair, I promise. I'm glad you're focusing your efforts here at home. We lived in Lothering, and my brother and I barely returned home from Ostagar in time to get our mother and sister out of there. We've heard that… Well, I know it's gone now, but whatever you can do for the rest of the kingdom, please do it. Rebuild and stand strong against anyone who might think to take advantage of Ferelden's weakened position."

"Yes, Eamon has said something similar," Elissa said, pulling a face. "But I don't hate it less simply because you're both right."

"I think that just proves you have a good heart," Abbie offered.

"It's certainly been said, but I think that's enough seriousness for one evening, don't you?" Anders decided. Extending a hand to Abbie, he added, "Would my lady care for a more comfortable perch than the cold ground?"

"Hm, we could take turns telling stories," Elissa suggested.

"Hey, as long as you skip me," Abbie said, and she happily settled in Anders' lap. "Mm, this _is_ far more comfortable, thank you. As I was saying, most of my stories are either depressing or boring, and I might need to be very drunk to share the ones that aren't."

"We'll see about that," Elissa chuckled. "But I'll get us started with a tale about Dalish elves, humans, vengeance… and werewolves."

"I haven't the heart to hate Zathrian for the initial curse," Abbie decided in the end. "I think most of us are capable of doing terrible things in the midst of grief or rage. Letting it go on for so long, though… Well, that was monstrous; I'm glad he finally ended it."

"It was the justice that his victims deserved," Justice agreed.

Elissa nodded her own agreement, stifling a yawn. "Oh, sorry. I think I'm about done in. Any volunteers for first watch?"

"You needn't worry over that," Justice insisted. "I do not require sleep; I shall keep watch."

"Appreciated," Elissa said, yawning again as she went about removing her armor. "But with all the darkspawn about, I would prefer a two-man watch."

"I'll take first watch with Justice, then," Abbie offered, though she did first turn in Anders' lap, settling against his chest for another moment. "Good night," she whispered, and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

Turning at the last second, Anders caught her lips with his own instead, though he drew back almost immediately. "Good night. Until tomo… " He let out a long moan as she moved back in, taking the best sort of advantage of his open mouth, and he let out an approving grunt when her hands found their way into his hair.

Eventually pulling away, Abbie rolled her hips against his and leaned back in to whisper in his ear. With a playful wink, she then hopped up and turned to go.

"Sweet dreams indeed," Anders muttered, watching the deliberate, graceful swish of her hips. "Down boy," he added to his nether regions, employing a minor ice spell to deal with the problem as he settled down in his bedroll.

Too tired to decide if she was shocked, amused, or some strange combination of the two, Elissa simply said, "I'll take second," finished removing her armor, and laid down as well.

Abbie gave her weapons and armor the usual cursory check and settled beside an uncomfortable spirit. "All right there, Justice? You look like you ate something sour."

"I… I beg your pardon?" he replied, clearly perplexed.

"Sorry, I meant you look like something's bothering you," she explained.

"It is not my business," Justice replied shortly, turning away. "And we are meant to be keeping watch."

"Granted, but predators generally wait until full dark and for quiet to set in before they attack," Abbie countered, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Besides, it's pretty obvious that this is about me snogging Anders senseless."

"It is truly none of my business," he insisted, though he did at least turn back.

"So what?" She laughed softly. "You are _allowed_ to have opinions about things that aren't strictly your business, and I don't mind impertinent questions. Why does it bother you?"

"Kristoff was married, and he and his wife loved each other deeply," Justice explained. "My only context for such relationships comes from his memories."

"Ah, and their courtship was properly slow and romantic, was it?" Abbie guessed. "I don't have time for that. I really don't. I can only say that I was… immediately drawn to him. Anders is attractive, smart, the best sort of snarky, and he… reminds me and doesn't of my father in all of the right ways. If we had more time, I'd… probably still throw myself at him, actually, but I might also hope for something more."

"Hm." Justice still seemed baffled, but more accepting at the same time. "That seems reasonable. But you said he reminds you and doesn't of your father. What does that mean?"

"Anders grew up in the Circle, just as my father did, but my father only escaped because he'd fallen for my mother and she was willing to run off with him," Abbie explained. "What I admire so much about Anders is that he chose to escape without outside influence. He left because he loved _himself_ , and because he understands that any sort of freedom is always preferable to slavery."

"And yet he is concerned only with his own freedom," the spirit pressed.

"He's been free, if one can even truly call being conscripted freedom, for what, about a month or two?" She chuckled. "Give the poor man a little time to catch his breath!"

"But why should he require time to know what is right?" he wondered.

"See, there you go again, being a judgmental arsehole," Abbie replied airily, heaving a sigh that even Justice could tell was exaggerated. Reaching out to take his gauntlet-covered hand, her smirk softened into a gentle smile. "Luv, you are _assuming_ that he doesn't. This isn't the Fade, Justice. A spirit embodies one concept, right? Well, mortals are more complicated than that. My father taught us that every spirit and every demon that exists in the Fade also exists somewhere within each one of us. Virtues like love, compassion, valor, wisdom, and justice are all tangled up with weaknesses like desire, rage, vengeance, fear, and pride."

"Hm. I have spoken some with our Commander on this subject, and I still cannot comprehend experiencing such varied emotions," Justice said. "And I am not sure I understand how that relates to Anders' refusal to help other mages."

"All right, then, but let's be clear on one thing first. Anders does _know_ that imprisoning the innocent is unjust," Abbie replied, and then she continued after another moment's thought. "Look, I know a little something about the sort of pain that tends to lurk behind a witty, charming exterior, and I know that Anders escaped from the Circle _seven_ times. I've helped quite a few apostates in my time, whether those fleeing the Circle or those who, like my little sister, are trying desperately to stay out of it. Unless I'm wrong, and I am rarely wrong about people, he is so afraid of the Chantry and their Templars that he couldn't so much as consider taking action against either without being consumed by his fear of being either locked up or killed. Well, that or being made Tranquil which, as I understand it, is rather like death only without your body being allowed to die."

"Such a thing is monstrous, an atrocity visited upon those who are already abused and helpless," Justice declared angrily. "Why does no one rise up against these injustices?"

"Some of us do try to thwart them in small ways, but the Chantry has the Templar Order as well as the Seekers of Truth to enforce its will, fear of another Exalted March to keep the rebellious and non-believers from organizing properly, and the Chant itself to keep the common throng terrified of mages," she explained, settling down for what she knew would be a long conversation.


	5. Returning to the Vigil

Elissa had never been so bored in her life, and she had been bored quite a lot, as her husband might say, so that was saying something. 

An hour had passed since Abbie had woken her and then stumbled off to curl up beside a peacefully slumbering mage. In that time, her companion had uttered at most, ten words. Since his initial greeting of, "All is quiet," Justice had spoken only when spoken to, and she'd given up after his sixth or seventh yes/no response. The silence had otherwise been broken only by the chip of insects, the crackle of the fire, the wind rustling the trees, and the occasional soft snore.

She couldn't deny that the peaceful night made for a welcome respite, but staying awake for it was increasingly difficult. She raised a hand to rub her eyes, but couldn't shake the weariness, so she glanced once more in the spirit's direction. "Is everything all right? You've been… unusually terse."

"My apologies. I am well; I am merely with my own thoughts," Justice replied evenly. "But the night _is_ quiet, Commander. Should you wish to retire, I swear you may rest easy knowing I am watching over all of you."

Bleary-eyed, Elissa regarded the spirit. She couldn't deny her exhaustion, and their darkspawn sense meant that she and Anders would awaken quickly in the event of an attack. "Very well. I'll leave you to your thoughts," she finally decided, and made her way back to the welcoming comfort of her bedroll.

Aside from the usual disturbing dreams, the rest of the night was uneventful, but the day itself was rather less so. Anders and Justice, oddly, spent much of the morning's march to the Vigil competing for Abbie's attention, but all of that was forgotten when a scout met them a few miles out, remarking that the Seneschal would be relieved to hear of their return, as there had been no word since Nathaniel's return eight days prior.

The four were still contemplating the troubling knowledge that the Architect had kept them unconscious, doing Maker knows what, for a whole week when they arrived at the keep. As the others went their separate ways, Elissa accepted a few pieces of correspondence in a daze and passed on yet another bag of lyrium sand to Dworkin. She barely noticed progress on the repairs until Voldrik assured her that the granite had already been retrieved and the coin she'd invested assured that he had all the men he needed to complete the work within a few more days at most.

Shaking herself, Elissa thanked the dwarf and then went about the rest of her errands, though the busy work did little to quiet her mind. She sent a runner to Vigil's keep to inform Mervis and locate Warden Keenan's widow, met with Wade to collect her new shield and passed on the dragon egg she'd collected in the mine, almost smiling at his enthusiasm as he set to forging her new dragonbone sword.

She next saw to a few administrative functions and checked in with her fellow Wardens, though Anders was conspicuously absent. Given that Abbie seemed to be heading for the living quarters sans armor, however, she decided against hunting him down and instead called to the other woman. "Abbie, if I might have a moment?"

"I might be willing to part with one of those, perhaps even several if you're lucky," Abbie joked, pausing. "What do you need?"

"I've been charged with rebuilding the Grey Wardens in Ferelden," Elissa began.

"I know where this is going, and the answer is no," Abbie replied firmly. "I'm flattered, but no. I have responsibilities in Kirkwall that must not be shirked for any reason. I'm sorry. Please… please don't force the issue."

"No, I'll respect your decision," Elissa assured her. "But I am sorry to lose you."

"And I didn't want to break my oath to Velanna _or_ to leave without making good on all that flirting I did, so I appreciate not having to vanish in a puff of smoke, never to be seen again," Abbie replied with a smirk.

Elissa chuckled. "Something tells me Anders would never forgive me for that. Go on, then. Have fun."

"Something tells _me_ that I will." Abbie said in turn, waggling her eyebrows before she scampered off.

Elissa laughed under her breath, grateful to the other woman for a much-needed lightening of her mood, and finally headed off to her own quarters to write her husband a letter. Not half an hour later, she was setting to her first hot meal in days when the first muffled shriek sounded from somewhere above them. Glancing upwards, she chuckled. "Well, something tells me that she was right."

"Impressive," Nathaniel commented simply.

"What is that?" Sigrun wondered, worry creasing her brow as that shriek was soon followed by a moan, several expletives, a high-pitched wail, and finally a masculine bellow. She stood up. "That sounds bad!"

"Oh, sit your arse down, woman," Oghren barked, and grumbled something under his breath about lucky mages.

In the end, convincing Sigrun that no one was being murdered in Anders' room took an almost embarrassing amount of time, and distracting Oghren from going to investigate, "Just to make sure, heh," took several bottles of whiskey along with a keg of ale.


	6. Good Morning

For the first time in recent memory, Anders awoke feeling perfectly content. He was free of the Circle and, aside from the occasional nightmare, being a Warden wasn't so bad, especially since the Commander seemed rather more laid-back about their duty than he'd expected. To top it all off, there was a beautiful, funny, mind-bendingly flexible, and enormously responsive woman currently sleeping beside him, her head pillowed on his chest. Humming in contentment, he reached up to stroke her hair.

"Mmm, good morning, Ser Magic Fingers," Abbie muttered hoarsely against his skin.

"Magic fingers?" Anders smiled down at her. "And good morning to you, my lithe goddess."

"Oooh, I like the sound of that," Abbie murmured, shifting to twine a leg around his. "And I was just remembering that electricity thing you did. I still have no idea how I managed to keep riding you."

"Happy to be of service, my lady," Anders replied with a self-satisfied grin. "I think they heard us all the way in the City, by the way. I hope I didn't deafen _you_ too badly, though, when… Andraste's arse, that angle when your legs were over my shoulders and you arched your back." He shuddered at the memory. "Do you really have to go?"

"Not until we take down the Architect, but yes, I really do," she returned softly, turning to kiss his chest. "My indentures are almost up, so if it was just about the Red Iron, I could probably ask the Commander if she'd loan me the coin to pay Meeran off, but I _have_ to get back to my sister. I've been away for too long already; Mother's likely grown frantic. I know Bethany is smart and careful, and Fluffy is looking after her, too, but the Templars in Kirkwall are far more vigilant than they are here in Ferelden."

"Your sister's a mage?" Anders asked in surprise. "And I might point out that the Templars are plenty vigilant here."

"If you've escaped from the Circle, then sure, but not if you've never set foot in one. Ask anyone from the Mage Collective," Abbie countered. "My father was a mage, too, and lived in Kirkwall's Gallows until he destroyed his phylactery and ran off with my mother. I grew up thinking magic was just… normal. You were either born a mage or you weren't, and it only mattered which because mages need additional education."

"That explains so much," he muttered, still half in shock.

"I thought it might," Abbie replied, smiling against his chest. "I knew the Chantry taught differently, of course, but as I grew older and began studying history, their lies became more apparent, and I finally stopped attending services. In fact, one of the lay sisters eventually asked why she never saw me anymore, and I quite brazenly told her that I would not support an oppressive regime that locked innocent people away and taught that the other races were inferior to ours. She had this sad look, and I wondered if she'd questioned those things, too. But she had no answers."

She fell silent after that, but eventually rose up on an elbow, looking uncertain for the first time. "So… you got quiet. I'm sorry if that was too…"

"No, I'm sorry," Anders cut in, reaching out to draw her close again. "I was trying to decide if 'Marry me' would be an inappropriate response."

Laughing a bit, Abbie relaxed, trailing her fingertips along his abs. "Hm, I wouldn't call it inappropriate. A bit soon, maybe."

"No, really, I…" A loud pounding at the door cut him off, and Anders groaned. "What?!" he called out irritably.

"No way! I ain't shoutin' a whole conversation through the door," Oghren called back, and then blinked as it opened. Heaving a disgusted sigh, he crossed his arms and looked up at Anders' face. "What, really? You couldn't spare five seconds to put on some pants? Still, I get what she sees in you… or more like in _her_. Heh."

"Hey, I'll have you know he has many fine, similarly impressive qualities!" Abbie called over, grinning as she rolled out of bed.

"Flatterer," Anders called back, not bothering to hide a smug grin. Crossing his arms, he mirrored Oghren's posture. "What's going on?"

"Huh? Oh, there's a bunch of whiny nobles downstairs, all crying and pissin' themselves," Oghren explained. "Darkspawn are on the move, so the Warden-Commander needs us down there." Craning his neck, he tried to peer inside the room.

Anders rolled his eyes and shut the door in the dwarf's face. "We'll be down in five minutes."

"Stupid mage," Oghren complained, muttering under his breath as he trudged off.

"Disgusting lecher," Anders muttered in turn, heading off to dress.


	7. The Assault on Amaranthine

Even with a detour by Wade's forge to retrieve her new armor (She'd only asked the armorer if he'd repair hers, but he'd taken her measurements instead, calling her armor absolute trash), Abbie and Anders reported five minutes later to the main hall, where Lord Eddlebrek was fretting over the fate of the farmers.

"Commander! Commander!" cried an elven runner, bursting into the hall.

"What is it, girl?" Seneschal Varel asked brusquely.

"A darkspawn army is within sight of Amaranthine!" she replied at once.

"Maker protect us!" Eddlebrek exclaimed. "They're attacking the city?"

"Amaranthine has been under-manned for weeks," Captain Garahel lamented. "She may not last long."

"Our forces cannot move quickly enough, but a small band might make it in time," Varel suggested.

"But that's… suicide," Eddlebrek balked, a similarly concerned murmur going through the gathered nobles.

"We must try," Garahel replied sternly.

"Then I will rally the city's defenders," Elissa said at once.

"If anyone can turn the darkspawn tide, it would be you, Commander," Varel agreed.

"Fighting a horde of darkspawn with almost certain death awaiting?!" Sigrun exclaimed, excited (perhaps worryingly so) by the prospect. "Don't even think of leaving me here, Commander."

From behind the Legionnaire, Abbie rolled her eyes. Oh yes, she thought, all military commanders _longed_ to lead soldiers with a death wish into battle.

"Who do you want to take with you, Commander?" Varel asked simply.

"Abbie, Anders, Justice. You're with me," Elissa said, all traces of playfulness and humor gone. The woman who stood before them was no longer their friend, but the Hero who led Ferelden's armies against the Blight.

"As it should be. Our foes will pay heavily for their transgressions; this I swear," Justice said, speaking for all of them.

"Garahel, ready a band of your best and follow us," Elissa added.

"Yes, Commander," Garahel replied, immediately going to do so.

"Nathaniel, this is your home," the Commander continued. "Few know the keep as well as you do; certainly no one knows its weaknesses and how to sneak _into_ it so well. I am entrusting her defense to you."

"You expect the darkspawn to attack here as well, then?" Nathaniel surmised.

"I would call it a strong possibility, and one we must be prepared for," Elissa replied. "Given our repairs and upgrades, I have faith that Vigil's Keep can withstand an onslaught. Should darkspawn breach the walls, however, Oghren will lead the offensive force; Sigrun, lead a flanking assault. The three of you will report to Seneschal Varel. Varel, assign the squads and coordinate strategies with your new captains."

"Yes, Commander," Varel nodded.

"All right, gear up," she added to her team. "We leave in ten."

"Aye, Commander," Abbie said, scurrying off to do so.

Ten minutes later, Elissa awaited them in the courtyard with three horses. "Abbie, I'll carry your gear. Justice, take Anders'. Without the added burden, one horse should be able to carry you both."

"Where did you even get horses?" Anders wondered, handing off his pack.

"Seven of the nobles had horses. I conscripted them," Elissa replied with a brief smirk. "Garahel's men are all heavily armed and armored, so they'll each need their own."

"But we've increased our chances of saving the city," Abbie surmised, mounting behind Anders.

"Exactly so," Elissa agreed. Raising her sword, she signaled the men. "We ride!" she cried, seven horses soon galloping for Amaranthine.

* * *

Upon arrival, they left the horses at the wood's edge and quickly cleared the outskirts. Constable Aiden came to meet them near the gate, lamenting that the city was already overrun and unlikely to be saved. As he spoke, one of the Architect's Disciples approached to warn them away from the city, informing them that the Mother was sending another force to attack Vigil's Keep.

"How predictable. The darkspawn will find my fortress to be well defended." Elissa flashed a dangerous smile. "Constable, take this creature into custody. We _will_ save Amaranthine, and I must know everything it does once the battle is won."

"I… yes, Commander," the constable replied, and called for the two men at the gate to take the oddly compliant darkspawn into custody.

"Our horses are tied at the edge of the wood," she continued. "We shall need them stabled and guarded."

"Immediately," Aiden promised, enlisting a few of the surviving villagers to assist with the horses.

"Let's get to work," Elissa told her people, and then moved out, soon charging through the gates to assist the overwhelmed city guards.

"Captain, take your men west through the city," she ordered once they were clear. "We shall head east."

"We'll meet you somewhere in the middle, Ser," Garahel replied and, with mutual nods of respect, both led their teams into the beleaguered city.

The battle itself was hard fought, but the darkspawn army was routed by nightfall, and they were offered space in the Chantry to rest.

"What of the smugglers' tunnel that leads to the Crown and Lion?" Anders wondered.

Elissa nodded thanks to the mage. In her exhaustion, she'd forgotten all about it. "Has the tunnel been secured?"

"No, we've lacked the manpower to do so," the city guard admitted.

"Then we'll sleep in the tavern," Elissa said. "Captain Garahel and his men will rest in the Chantry. Should darkspawn breach the gates before the tunnels, his team will be the first to respond."

"I'll see about setting a watch of the tunnel," the guard promised, heading off to assign a detail.

"Good man," Elissa muttered wearily, trudging off toward the nearby tavern. "If you can sleep in your armor, please do so," she added to her own people.

"Could sleep standing up at this point," Abbie muttered back, and indeed even Justice was weary enough to fall into a sleep-like state.

* * *

A half hour before dawn, a guard's cry of "Darkspawn in the cave!" had them all awake and reaching for their weapons.

"Guardsman, alert your superior," Elissa ordered, emerging first. "Have Garahel to take his men through the main gate and attack the enemy's flank. I need the city guards to cover the rear gate, protect the townsfolk, and back up Garahel and myself as you can."

"Aye, Commander," the guard promised, running off to see it done.

The invading darkspawn, unprepared as they were to be met in the caves, fell quickly before the Wardens and City Guard, and dawn was only just breaking as they emerged into the village to find Garahel and his forces battling an armored ogre and the remaining darkspawn general. Between the two groups, even these powerful creatures fell within a few minutes' time.

"Commander, the darkspawn are retreating!" Aiden cried in disbelief, coming to join them.

Elissa nodded, sheathing her sword. "Any news of the keep?"

"We haven't heard much, but what little we have heard... doesn't sound good," Garahel spoke up.

"The Architect's messenger has given us directions to the Mother's lair," Aiden continued, passing over a map. "The darkspawn appear to be retreating in the same direction."

"Then we will take the fight to the Mother," Elissa replied simply, dismissing the Guard Captain.

"Orders, Commander?" Garahel asked.

"Gather whatever forces you can and march on Vigil's Keep," Elissa instructed. "Leave the horses behind; these men would be unable to keep up."

"At once," Garahel promised, clearly relieved. "I imagine reinforcements will be welcome."

Nodding in both agreement and dismissal, Elissa turned next to her own people, pleased to see Abbie and Anders leading four horses, already saddled and ready. Once they had all mounted, she took a deep breath. "Ride hard. We will avoid both darkspawn armies as we can and put an end to this thing."


	8. Depths of Depravity

Only a mile or so from Drake's Fall, they were fortunate enough to find a sheltered place to set up camp and discovered (happily) that the villagers had loaded the horses' saddlebags with dried meats, cheese, bread, and even a few skins of wine. Sparing time enough only to set a rudimentary camp and eat, they soon set out on foot. Like at Kal'Hirol, they found most of the darkspawn intent on killing each other. Unlike Kal'Hirol, however, this time they crept past the fighting whenever possible. Much as Elissa had once muttered to Alistair as they raced through Fort Drakon, at this point speed was far more important than eradicating all of the darkspawn.

"Hopefully the Architect and the Mother are both in here," Abbie muttered when they slipped quietly into an old, crumbling fortress, leaving the remaining darkspawn to face a dragon.

"Dare we hope those two kill each other?" Anders joked.

"Dare all you like, but there is no chance we will be that lucky," Elissa snorted, her humor returning some as they neared their target.

"Do you know what no one ever mentions about killing darkspawn?" Abbie asked conversationally some time later, the group having cleared the immediate area, and she paused to wipe blood from her faceplate.

"The drudgery and thanklessness of it all?" Anders asked dryly.

"No, the random flesh pods and floors and walls covered in rancid… whatever this meat is," Abbie replied sourly. "If people had any idea just how profoundly _disgusting_ all of it is, you might hear, 'Thank you, Warden. Maker bless you!' far more often."

"Hah, I might have to test that," Elissa joked, and then fell silent as they descended another set of stairs. It was quiet. Too quiet. "On your guard," she whispered.

"And so we meet again," the Architect intoned, gliding around the corner, and he held up a hand when his companion raised her daggers. "No, Utha. That is not how this must begin. I owe you an apology, Commander. When last we met, I intended to explain myself. Fate, however, intervened."

"We escaped, you mean," Elissa accused. "And you experimented on us!"

"I restrained you only to prevent the misunderstanding that occurred with the rest of your order," the Architect replied, still in that maddeningly calm voice.

"Misunderstanding?" Anders scoffed. "Is that what you call it?"

"I sent the Withered to ask for the Grey Wardens' help," the Architect explained. "Perhaps I should have anticipated that you might view our approach as an attack. I am rarely able to judge how your kind will react. It was most unfortunate."

"Unfortunate?" Justice sneered.

"It does seem most unfortunate that you took those men and bled them dry," Elissa countered, though she found herself more curious than angry.

"The Grey Wardens who were brought to me were already dead," the Architect insisted.

"The survivor we found in the mine belies that statement," Abbie muttered.

"I took their blood just as I took yours, because I had little choice," the Architect continued. "Things have not gone as I planned. I only ask that you hear me out. Should you still wish to slay me afterwards, you may try."

"Fine, I will hear you out." _What harm was there in listening?_ Elissa asked herself, never noticing the concerned glances her companions sent her way. This Architect seemed perfectly reasonable, and far politer a foe than any she had previously encountered.

"My kind has ever been driven to seek out the Old Gods. This is our nature. When we find one, a Blight is begun. Each time, we attack your surface lands, and you fight back until we are defeated," the being explained, always in that calm, hypnotic voice. "To break the cycle, my brethren must be freed of their compulsion. For that, I need Grey Warden blood."

"Why do you need Wardens' blood?" Elissa wondered.

"In order to become what you are, you drink the blood of my kind. To transform. Similarly, we must transform," the Emissary explained. "I have created a version of your Joining that uses the blood of Grey Wardens. You take the taint into yourselves. What we take is your resistance."

"Which, of course, explains why you took mine. Oh wait..." Abbie interjected, glancing over at Elissa. "You do know he's lying, right?"

"That is how my brethren are freed," the Architect continued, his focus wholly on the Warden-Commander, and neither he nor Elissa gave any sign that they had heard the question. "In your blood lies the key to their immunity against the Call of the Old Gods."

"I like my blood where it is. In my veins," Anders noted. "Besides, these new darkspawn don't seem particularly friendly _or_ entirely sane."

"Once they are freed, the darkspawn think for themselves. They speak. They act. Some, however, have reacted poorly. They are flawed and they rage against me. The Mother gathers them to stop me… as she seeks to stop you," the Architect continued. "I cannot defeat the Mother alone, and I cannot free the darkspawn unless she is defeated. Our goals are the same."

"Oh, for the love of… How stupid do you think we are?" Abbie scoffed. "An amoral, blighted creature leading an army of malevolent monsters doesn't sound any better, or even all that different, than a Blight!"

Despite the tense atmosphere, Anders actually chuckled. "I think that sums it up nicely. Don't you?" he added to the Commander, his brow furrowing when she did not react.

Face blank, Elissa gazed at the Architect as if in a trance. This being wished to end the Blights; who could argue with such a noble goal?

"Kill this creature now, lest it make things worse than they already are," Justice advised, his entire being positively thrumming with righteous anger. "Do what is right and do not waver!"

Justice's voice, at last, seemed to rouse Elissa from her waking dream. For the first time since becoming a Warden, she felt a soul-deep stab of fear over their connection to the Blight. What if, she wondered, this creature was not actually freeing darkspawn, but was instead somehow substituting his own call? If that was the case, then what might that mean for every Grey Warden with enough taint in their blood to be affected? Were they more vulnerable to this Emissary? Was he taking their blood to make the darkspawn similarly susceptible?

With considerable effort, she cleared her mind of questions and raised her sword. "Never. We are sworn to stand _against_ the Blight. We do not make deals with darkspawn. EVER."

"How very unfortunate. I am sorry, Utha," was all the Architect managed before one of his foes vanished in a puff of smoke.

Elissa took some small satisfaction in the Architect's obvious shock, as in the next moment Abbie reappeared behind Utha, efficiently snapping the ghoul's neck. With no allies left to call on, the ensuing fight was fast and brutal.

Soon, the Architect lay dead at their feet, and Elissa took a deep breath, finding her head well and truly clear at last. She looked to her companions, but resolved to discuss this only with Alistair. There was no need to worry anyone else. Not yet, at least.

"So, one down; one to go," Abbie said simply.

"Then let's finish this," Elissa replied firmly, leading the way down into the nest.


	9. It's Finally Over

"I pray this means the darkspawn will finally return to the Deep Roads," Elissa muttered when four tired heroes finally trudged out of Drake's Fall.

"Seconded," Anders agreed, looking over as Abbie finally removed her blood-caked helmet. "Are you _sure_ you didn't swallow any darkspawn blood?"

"For at least the third time, yes. I'm sure," Abbie replied, though she had an odd look. "Can you get the taint from a Warden?"

"I don't think so, or at least I've never heard of it happening," Elissa said, removing her own helmet as they reached their camp, finding it more or less as they'd left it, but it seemed the horses were long gone. "Disappointing, but not unexpected," she commented, and then turned back to Abbie. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, you know. Just a concern the word 'swallow' raised," Abbie replied airily. She winked at Anders.

"Say no more," the other woman snorted. Quickly shedding her armor, she headed off for a wash in a nearby stream.

" _Please_ say no more," Justice added sourly.

"You know I'd never offend your delicate sensibilities, luv," Abbie teased, already stripping out of her armor, and she soon followed after the Commander.

For a time, both women were silent, contemplating their respective futures as they scrubbed away the dirt and muck.

"When did you know Alistair was the one?" Abbie asked softly.

Elissa raised an eyebrow, silent for a time as she considered her response. "You don't want to return to Kirkwall, do you?"

"What? Don't be ridiculous. What's not to love about Kirkwall? The chains are lovely, the massive buildings aren't the least bit oppressive or intimidating, and wending one's way through twisting maze-like streets with gates that might slam shut and trap you at a moment's notice is always a lark," Abbie replied lightly. "Anyway, what I want in this case doesn't matter, so there's no point in dwelling."

Elissa simply nodded, understanding all too well. "Well, I think I had a feeling when his first words to me, after he'd been completely denigrated by a Circle mage at Ostagar, were, 'You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together.' I can't quite match Alistair's sardonic wit, but he was such a breath of fresh air," she said with a goofy smile, remembering those early days. "He then followed that up by commenting on there being few female Grey Wardens and said that he wondered why. Most of the men I spoke with questioned my qualifications, but it seemed never to have occurred to him to think of women as less capable than men."

"You know, that may be the one thing I actually do prefer about Kirkwall," Abbie noted. "Still, he was snarky and saw you as an equal. That does sound like a winning combination."

"Oh, it was, and then he turned out to be sweet and bashful, and yet somehow charming, too," Elissa replied with a soft sigh. "That he was so handsome on top of everything else was just unfair."

Abbie grinned at that. "Oh, I know what you mean. It's funny, though. Substitute sexy and bold for sweet and bashful, and you could be talking about Anders."

"He does remind me a bit of Alistair on occasion," Elissa said. "Mostly when he's irritated about the Chantry, though they also share a gift for deflecting with humor. I've noticed you have a talent for it, yourself, though you don't always."

"Not always, no," Abbie agreed, going to dress. Quirking a grin, she added, "Only when it's suitably irritating to do so."

"Oh yes, you would get on quite well with my husband," Elissa said, rolling her eyes as she followed suit.

"Then do pass on my regards to the king," Abbie replied with an exaggerated flourish and a bow. "Do it just like that, too." She winked.

"Bow to him while half naked, you mean?" Elissa replied airily, flashing a lopsided grin.

Abbie laughed aloud. "Well sure, but you should do that, anyway!"

* * *

"So, I'm curious," Anders began, bored of waiting for the ladies to return.

"So I have noticed," Justice replied irritably.

"Kristoff was married, and you were even kind to his widow," Anders continued. "So why do you seem to find human relations distasteful?"

"I do not," Justice replied flatly. "What I find distasteful is your casual attitude toward such things."

" _My_ attitude?" Anders scoffed. "What of Oghren's attitude? What of Abbie's?"

"Oghren is a foul man," Justice said at once. "Abigail is… complicated, but we had a conversation and I believe I understand her point of view."

"I might point out that she flirted with me first, but as you like her, it seems you want to cast me in the role of lecher," Anders accused. "As it happens, I like her, too. I wish, oh Maker, a lot of things – that she didn't have to leave or that she'd entertain a marriage proposal instead of laughing it off. Perhaps most of all, I wish I'd met her _before_ I'd been conscripted. I've no doubt she'd have helped me without demanding a lifetime of service in return," he added bitterly.

"You asked her to marry you?" Justice asked slowly. "I was aware of no such thing."

"I… Well, not exactly. More like I put it out there as a possibility and she laughed it off. She said it was too soon, maybe, but I think she thought I was joking."

"Given how often you _are_ , that seems a simple mistake," Justice pointed out. "But you do care for her."

"I do," Anders affirmed. "She's… everything I never dared to hope for."

"Perhaps Abigail was right when she called me a 'judgmental arsehole'," Justice sighed. "This world is so confusing; I do not know if I will ever grasp the complexity of you mortals. How am I meant to dispense justice if I am no longer certain of what that means?"

"On your own, you probably can't," Anders reasoned. "Seems to me, what you need is a friend whose judgment you trust as a guide until you do understand. The Warden-Commander is a good choice."

"She has been," Justice agreed. "Now that the crisis has passed, however, she will surely return to Denerim, and I doubt a rotting corpse would be tolerated at Court."

"A safe bet," Anders replied, his brows knitting. "I hadn't considered that she'd leave, too."

"Besides, Abigail has been more helpful than even the Commander," Justice continued on. "The other night, when we kept watch, she took the time to discuss things which I could not grasp. She spoke of context and nuance and explained that what seems just to one man might seem wholly unjust to another, and yet both may have valid cause for their beliefs. I… would follow her to Kirkwall, if only I could," he admitted.

"That makes two of us," Anders agreed. "It must have been quite a conversation, if that alone has you wanting to follow her across the Waking Sea."

"We spoke for the entire three hours she kept watch with me," Justice said. "She shared much about her experiences with the mages, both those within her own family and those she has aided, but she also explained that most people trust the Chantry implicitly, never questioning its teachings at all."

To say Anders was surprised to learn of this would be an understatement. "She told _you_ all of that?"

"Yes. Why? Did she not tell you as well?" Justice wondered.

"No. No, I mean, yes, she did, but… well, she hadn't yet," Anders sighed, turning his gaze to the setting sun. Loath as he was to admit it, he could not deny the thoughts that were taking shape. The jealousy was, admittedly, stupid and petty, but the others were less petty, if still quite stupid. For those thoughts, he blamed Nathaniel, as it was the archer's stupid 'helpful' suggestions currently echoing about in his head. _For life. For love. Perhaps together, you can do what they cannot do alone. If you gave instead of taking, I would consider you no demon._

What he was considering should be unthinkable, abominable as some would say, but he could not deny the appeal. He looked back, catching the spirit's cloudy eye, and could swear that Justice's thoughts mirrored his own. They held each other's gaze for what felt like a lifetime, but Anders finally opened his mouth, only to close it promptly as the ladies returned from their wash. Scrambling to his feet, he muttered, "I should get cleaned up, too," and all but ran off.

Wondering what that was about, Abbie considered going after him, but ultimately exhaustion won out. She all but collapsed on her bedroll, and was asleep almost before her eyes closed.


	10. Not Really a Goodbye

Somewhere in the wee hours, a sudden movement had Anders instantly alert. Abbie was in the throes of a nightmare, her back ramrod straight against his chest, and her arms were raised as if wielding daggers. "Carver!" she cried.

Sighing softly, he leaned in to kiss her shoulder, but then jerked back. "Maker's balls, Justice!"

The spirit was seated on her other side, face screwed up in concentration. "She is reliving her brother's death. She blames herself, believes she could have saved him had she only been faster. I thought perhaps I could reach her, but it seems I cannot. Perhaps it is because she is not a mage, or perhaps I can no longer reach across the Veil at all."

He looked up at Anders then, and seemed surprised by what he saw. "You are… uncomfortable. Should I not have attempted to help? Abigail is punishing herself unjustly. I only…"

"No, I understand," Anders cut in, still uncomfortable to find Justice encroaching on their space, but trying to hide it. "All the same, would you mind letting me try?"

"Oh… Yes. Of course," Justice replied haltingly. He cast Abbie one last concerned look and then stood, returning to his own spot.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Anders curled his body protectively around Abbie's, raising a hand to stroke her arm as he whispered that she was all right, that he was there, and that she needed to wake up.

Abbie awoke with a start, groping blindly for a weapon before Anders' voice registered, and then she went limp. "Thank you," she whispered, her breath hitching once. "Fluffy usually wakes me up. This is much better than having my face licked," she added lightly.

He smiled against her back. "Are you all right?"

"I am," she replied, reaching up to squeeze his hand. "This is perfect."

"I noticed you always rush ogres and distract them from everyone else," Anders said, and cursed himself silently when she tensed again. "I'm sorry. Forget I said anything."

"No, you're right, but I don't want to talk about it… or anything, really," she whispered, turning around in his arms. "It's… This is our last night together. Elissa said the return trip to Vigil's Keep will be via Amaranthine for the remaining horses, and she thinks we can make it by late afternoon if we push hard. She also said that she'll see to it that I'm on the first ship back to Kirkwall."

NO. Their time couldn't be that short. It just… NO. "Tomorrow? You're leaving tomorrow?"

"I'm sorry. I was going to tell you when we got back from our wash, but then you hurried off and I was so tired." She raised a hand to stroke his face. "But I'm not so tired now. Do you… think we could be quiet?"

"I was in the Circle. I can be quiet as a mouse," Anders said, shifting to move over her. While he knew Justice was awake and that their actions would make the spirit uncomfortable, he was also spiteful enough to consider such turnabout fair play. "Whether _you_ can be quiet is another matter entirely."

Threading her fingers through his hair, Abbie tugged him closer, rising up to kiss his chin. "Can and will. I'll just pretend my mother's in the next room."

From across the camp, a solitary figure watched the pair, feeling familiar pangs of envy and longing. The Warden-Commander had told him there was no harm in wanting something beautiful, but this felt sharper than his feelings for Aura, perhaps because they were brought on by more than a dead man's memories. Looking away, he focused on the campfire, willing the light and crackle of the flames to distract him from such unwelcome, uncomfortable feelings.

It didn't work, but at least it gave him something else to look at as the night wore on and on and ON. "At some point, their stamina will give out. It simply must," he muttered at last.

* * *

Far too soon, as it was wont to do, a new day dawned, and a band of four set out for Amaranthine. As Elissa had predicted, they reached the city gates in time for an early dinner, and for her to handle Abbie's lodging and travel arrangements.

Elissa considered spending a night at the Crown and Lion, but as news from Vigil’s Keep was sketchy at best, she decided they should ride back at once. And so, all too soon, the time came for goodbyes.

"Write to me?" Abbie asked Anders softly.

"All the time," he promised, drawing her close. "Well, all the time when we're above ground."

"So will I, though I hope to always be above ground." She reached up to trace a finger along one eyebrow and then down his cheek. "I'll want to hear from Justice, too. Ask him for me?"

"Hm, I don't know quite how to feel about this," Anders teased. That wasn't true, of course, as he knew quite well how he felt about it. "Perhaps I should be jealous?"

"I am not into necrophilia, thank you," Abbie muttered, punching his arm lightly. "Seriously, though. You know Elissa will be going back to Court soon, so I hope the two of you will look out for each other."

Sighing, Anders closed his eyes. He wanted to ask how she'd feel if Justice wasn't in a corpse, if he should be jealous then. Instead, he reminded himself of what had, since the previous evening, become his silent mantra. _Don't do it. That way lies madness_. "Take me with you," he blurted.

"They're your friends and they need you, Anders. Please don't turn your back on them," she replied gently, turning to kiss his cheek. "See them safely to Vigil's Keep and help clean up this mess. After that… write to me. Maybe we'll figure something out."

"Sure you won't marry me first?" Anders sort of joked. "The Chantry is just down the street there."

Abbie drew back, her expression an odd mix of exasperation and longing. "Ask again. When. You. Write. To. Me." She punctuated each word with a poke to his chest.

"So, what I'm hearing is that I should write?" He teased, finally reaching out to capture her hand. "No. I get it. Prove I mean what I've been saying."

"See? I knew you were a smart man," she replied, letting him draw her back in, though she did glance over his shoulder. "They're waiting for you, love," she whispered, her breath hitching once. "Now… kiss me and go."

 _I love you_ , Anders wanted to say; in fact, the words kept repeating in his head as he kissed her goodbye. "I'll miss you," he said instead, reminding himself that, while this felt like love, there was still a possibility that it was no more than an infatuation.

"Then perhaps your aim needs work," she joked lamely, and pulled away with a smile. "I'll be seeing you."

Returning her smile, he finally turned to go. "Yes, you will." With every step Anders took away from her, he hated being beholden to the Wardens a little bit more.


	11. Endings and Beginnings

Weeks passed in a flurry of activity. Thanks to sound strategy, reinforcements from the city, and the speed with which they defeated the Architect and the Mother, Vigil's Keep held against the darkspawn with relatively few casualties.

Rumor had it, in fact, that the most heated part of the battle was actually Seneschal Varel's shouting match with Sigrun, as she'd been intent on leading a force into the Deep Roads to pursue the fleeing darkspawn and had been furious when he forbade it. In the weeks since, the dwarf had grown ever more sullen, and Elissa suspected she would soon return to the Deep Roads.

Things had gone rather better for her other appointees, as both the Seneschal and their soldiers had only praise for Nathaniel and Oghren. The two had coordinated the Vigil's defense and attack brilliantly, and were now being lauded as heroes. Nathaniel had accepted the praise with modest dignity and grace, while Oghren was in a state of stunned disbelief. Oghren had, at least, found the nerve to write his lady since. Given the dwarf's talent for screwing up his life and relationships, however, the best Elissa could manage was a cautious hope that Felsi would allow him to see their daughter from time to time. As for the archer, Elissa's official recommendation was that Nathaniel be considered for his own command as soon as possible. While fairly new to the Wardens, he was well educated, seasoned, took well to responsibility, and had earned the men's respect and support.

Anders had been industrious since their return, tirelessly healing the injured and even assisting with repairs when he could, as had Justice. When not working, however, the two could usually be found in the library, seemingly avoiding all company but each other's. Given Anders' history, Elissa feared it was only a matter of time before he found whatever it was he was looking for and slipped away. She did, at least, have a few thoughts about persuading him to remain with the Wardens, but she wanted to discuss the matter with Alistair.

Sighing, Elissa affixed a seal to her latest official missive. She's busied herself with reports for Weisshaupt, responses to nobles' seemingly endless correspondence, overseeing repairs and the training of new recruits, and the myriad other tasks that vied for her attention. Yet every day she grew more anxious for a letter from her husband. She had written several times, once after each nightmare. Since the Architect's death, the creature had regularly haunted her sleep. Even now, she heard his voice echo in her head. _You think me dead? How can you destroy that which lurks within each of you?_

"Warden-Commander?"

Elissa started; she hadn't heard the girl come in. "Yes? What is it?"

"The royal carriage approaches," the meek elven girl said. "The Seneschal thought you'd want to meet it."

"Thank you; I do," she replied, getting up. "Will you please have a bottle of wine and some cheese sent to my chambers?"

"At once, my lady." With a quick bow, the girl bustled off.

There in the privacy of her office, Elissa allowed herself a goofy smile. "A visit is better than a letter," she decided. Trading her drab casual wear for a rich velvet gown with a front panel of fine silk brocade (hers courtesy of a grateful noble family), she took a few minutes to brush out her hair and apply a little makeup. "No. I am _not_ ridiculous," she told her reflection defensively, and hurried out.

Her timing perfect, the carriage was pulling into the courtyard as she emerged, and her heart flipped as Alistair stepped out. He'd eschewed his usual heavy armor for soft brown leather in the traditional Fereldan style paired with a dark green cloak, appearing both regal and comfortable.

The effect was such that Elissa had to remind herself _not_ to drag him upstairs by his silverite cloak-clasp, and his smirk as he caught her eye told her that the smug bastard was well aware of how good he looked. "Welcome back," she murmured, extending a hand as she stepped forward.

Grinning, Alistair took her hand. "So, do you remember that Templar we rescued from Howe's dungeon?" He paused, a sheepish look flitting across his face. "I mean hi! It's great to be back, well done with the darkspawn killing thing, I've missed you, you look breathtakingly beautiful in that gown, and… Well, do you remember? I was hoping we could get work out of the way."

Elissa nodded in understanding, though she was sorely tempted to close the distance between them. "I do. Irminic, wasn't it? His sister is Bann Alfstanna Eremon. Has he recovered?"

"Yes and nooooo," Alistair replied. "He recovered well enough to return to his duties, but I'm told he still had problems. Last week, he took a, quote, 'unknown quantity of lyrium'. One of the healers was able to save his life, but he hasn't regained consciousness. With Wynne still off in Cumberland, Anders is reportedly the most talented healer in Ferelden."

"Which is probably why the Templars kept letting Anders live," Elissa mused. "Where is Irminic now? Will Anders need to travel far?"

"No, he's just in the carriage," Alistair said, gesturing behind them. "He made for a boring, and slightly creepy, traveling companion to be honest. But Alfstanna's been loyal and reeeeally helpful, so this made for a good excu… _reason_ to come visit."

Elissa grinned at that. "I've missed you so much."

"Then might I suggest we drop the sleeper off in your infirmary?" Alistair replied softly, taking a step closer.

Elissa's smile broadened. "An excellent suggestion."

Thanks to a letter of explanation from the Circle, which they passed to Anders, dropping the unconscious Templar off took little time. Anders cast the man a mildly disgusted look, but promised to do whatever he could.

Thanking the healer, Elissa turned to Alistair and winked. "Race you," she whispered, and then she was off and running.

"Hey, no fair! Head starts are cheating!" Alistair shouted after his wife, but he gave chase. If a few whoops and wolf whistles followed after, they seemed neither to notice nor to care.

* * *

By mutual agreement, they postponed any serious discussion, and so the morning and early afternoon passed in a blur of love-making and idle chatter. Only after a short doze, did they discuss all that had happened while they were apart: from the Architect and the 'recruit that got away', to her nightmares and worries about various susceptibilities of the Wardens.

"So, how do we deal with this?" Alistair finally asked. "If there _are_ other darkspawn that could influence Grey Wardens, then what do we do?"

"Blended groups, maybe?" Elissa suggested. "Nearly every Warden outpost employs at least a few non-Wardens. Perhaps their clear-headedness would protect us."

"That's an awful lot riding on a perhaps," Alistair replied doubtfully. "The biggest problem is that Wardens aren't typically known for _listening_ when people disagree with us."

"I know, but I don't see a better solution," Elissa muttered, turning her face to his chest. She was silent for a time, merely listening to his heartbeat. When she eventually broke the silence, it was at least half speaking to herself. "I need to find Morrigan. If anyone might have an idea of where to start, I think it would be her."

Having nearly fallen back asleep, Alistair started. "What? Did I miss something there?"

"Huh? Was that aloud?" Elissa sighed, but decided to admit another part of what she'd been considering. "I want to find a cure. I'm glad to have been part of ending the Blight, but didn't _choose_ this path. I want to bear your children; I don't want to die young. I want all these things I'm told I cannot have, but I was _also_ told that the Blight could only end with a Grey Warden's death, and we know that wasn't true."

"Wasn't true with a lot of strings and a demon baby attached," Alistair pointed out, a sour look on his face. "I am also not agreeing to any more magical sex rites unless they involve you, me, and no one else."

"Agreed. I _still_ hate myself for putting you through that," Elissa admitted, closing her eyes. "I'm glad we're both alive, but…"

"Stop right there. No buts," Alistair whispered, combing his fingers through her hair. "I'm glad we're both alive, too, and that's all that matters. Yes, I was disgusted, but I _never_ hated you, so please don't hate yourself for it."

"I'll try," was all Elissa could promise. "And I don't know if Morrigan will have any answers, but she might at least have some ideas, which would be more than I have right now."

"There's also Grand Enchanter Fiona of the Montsimmard Circle," Alistair replied thoughtfully. "She used to be a Grey Warden, but was somehow cured of the Taint."

Elissa sat up. "What? How? Why is this the first I've heard of it?"

"Those are all good questions; sadly, I have no idea how," Alistair said. "She knew Duncan and my father, though. I even tried to ask Duncan what he knew, but he wouldn't talk about her at all. He just told me a Warden's duty is a grave matter, all that rot about not ever trying to wriggle out of it, and then scolded me for asking impertinent questions."

"But those are the questions you're best at asking," she teased, settling down beside him again.

"That's what I said," he teased in return, nudging her lightly. "Didn't go over as well as I'd hoped."

"As grim as a Warden's lot is, you'd think they would appreciate your gift for levity," Elissa muttered.

"Some of them did, especially before the Blight, but so many take themselves too seriously," Alistair mused. "Something to work on, maybe."

"Or maybe definitely," Elissa agreed. Heaving a sigh, she rolled away, slipping out of bed. "Speaking of work, we should really get up and check in with Anders."

"Ugh, so boring," Alistair complained, but he did follow suit.

* * *

"Physically speaking, he's as well as can be expected," Anders informed his monarchs, leading the pair to Irminic's prone form. "But the only way to find out why he won't wake up is to enter his mind. Given enough lyrium, I might be able to do that, but he's not a mage, so it gets tricky. Frankly, Justice might have an easier time of it."

"I'd think Justice would have a harder time connecting with a non-mage," Elissa said. "Or does this have something to do with how much time you two have been spending in the library?"

"It does," Anders said. "Justice should be able to get a sense of the Templar's mind without much difficulty. With any luck, though, he will be able to focus through his lyrium ring and actually reach out. I don't know for certain if he can enter Irminic's mind, but I do think he should try. I sent someone after him already," he added.

"I am here. What do you need of me?" Justice asked, entering. He listened closely while Anders explained, and finally sat beside the unconscious man. "I sense… almost nothing, but I will try."

Justice laid a hand on Irminic's chest, focusing until he began to glow, blue-white energy crackling along his skin. For a time, he was quiet, but discomfort flashed suddenly across his face. "I don't think…" Suddenly, Kristoff's body slumped over.

"Justice!" Anders cried. At the same time, Alistair exclaimed, "He's waking up!"

Irminic's eyes opened, but then they flashed with blue-white energy. "… this was a good idea," Justice continued. He blinked several times, breath coming rapidly as he struggled to reorient himself. "My… my apologies. What little remains of this poor man's mind latched on to me and would not let go."

"Well, that complicates matters," Anders said. "But thank the Maker you're all right!"

" _This_ won't be at all hard to explain to his sister or the Chantry," Alistair muttered.

"We could always shrug and look stupid," Elissa muttered back, half considering it. "No, better to tell them that he's dead."

"And when Alfstanna asks that her brother's body be returned?" Alistair countered.

"Given the upheaval Amaranthine has lately suffered, I think she'd understand if we chose to light his pyre here," Elissa reasoned. "We can send a box of ashes."

"Perhaps Justice should have a say in this," Anders suggested.

Finally sitting up, Justice turned to look at the body he'd so recently inhabited. "It would be kinder if his sister believed him dead," he agreed. "So much of this man's life, his memories, have been erased by the lyrium. What little I can piece together does not improve my opinion of the Chantry."

"Does anything ever?" Alistair snorted. "Look, I won't say I like this. I'm not even sure I understand what's just happened here. But, if this plan is going to work, then Justice here needs to look less like Ser Irminic."

"I'll see to that," Anders offered. "A shave and a haircut should do well enough."

"All right and please look after Justice as he acclimatizes," Elissa requested, standing up. "I'll send someone to collect Kristoff's body. Sorry to run off again, but the king and I still have much to discuss."

"You're so formal," Alistair grumbled, likewise getting up. "I still have a name, you know."

Coughing to hide a snort of laughter, Anders watched his king and queen depart. "Bet you a sovereign that 'much to discuss' is code for 'a lot more shagging to do'."

Justice shook his head. "Crude, but… likely true," he decided.

Anders was reaching for a pair of scissors, but he paused to cast Justice an odd look. "Did you just agree with me?"

"They are married and have been separated for months," Justice pointed out. "Why should they not crave intimacy?"

"A fair point, and I guess you would know," Anders said. "Do you… want to take Kristoff's ashes to Aura yourself?"

"We should first ask if she wishes to be present for his pyre," Justice suggested. "I am uncertain if I should speak with her again. For her sake, it might be better if I did not."

"Do you have feelings for her?" Anders wondered. "And how short do you want your hair, by the way?"

"I remember Kristoff's feelings for her, and hers for him. I still feel envious of what they shared, but I do not want her for myself," Justice explained. He raised a hand to his head. "Strange. Kristoff did not have hair. He considered it a nuisance: one more thing to get dirty. I am inclined to agree with him."

"Bald it is, then," Anders said, trading his scissors for a straight razor. "So, let's find out if your head's oddly shaped."

"Would that matter?" Justice wondered, glancing at the razor. "I suppose I must learn how to use that."

"You'll get the hang of it soon enough," Anders assured him. "Along with eating, drinking, sleeping, and all of the things a _living_ human body needs."

"I wonder," Justice murmured. "If all of that is true – if this body does require sleep – will I dream?"

"Maybe Irminic's mind will dream and take you with him," Anders suggested.

Justice was silent for a time, lost in thought. "I do not think so," he finally said. "I no longer sense the man as a separate being. He has become part of me, or I of him. I know not which."

"Huh." The mage fell silent, simply shaving Justice's head. While he worked, a servant came in to retrieve the corpse, and Anders began to breathe easier as the air cleared.

"Well, you're in luck. Your head's not shaped funny at all," he eventually pronounced, coming around to finish with the beard. "If it's mostly you in there, I wonder if you _will_ need to eat and sleep, or if you'd need less of either or both. Should be interesting finding out."

"That is one word for it," Justice muttered. "Odd as this is, I cannot help but notice that you seem more at ease in my presence. I did notice that the stench was worse than I had imagined."

"It was pretty awful, but that's not why." Anders glanced up briefly. "I've been considering… options. I won't stay here much longer. Abbie wanted us to look after each other, as I told you. I figured you'd be willing to follow me to Kirkwall, but people tend to attack possessed corpses, so…"

"You have considered asking me to possess you," Justice cut in. "I had considered the same. But you seemed uncomfortable with the idea, and now it is no longer necessary."

"I suspected it had crossed your mind, but hearing you admit to it is something else." Anders reached up to rub his neck. "I hope you won't mind me admitting that I feel as if I've dodged a fireball."

"Likewise, I assure you," Justice agreed. "I feel… different now. I cannot explain what has changed, but it is disconcerting. How much more overwhelming would joining with you have been, I wonder."

"You wouldn't be the first man to call that overwhelming," Anders returned with a smirk. "There, all done. You look… good like this."

Justice looked up, catching Anders' eye. His friend appeared uncomfortable again, possibly even embarrassed, and his face was flushed. "Is there a problem?"

"No. I'm being stupid," Anders replied shortly, and then excused himself to find his assistant.

Justice sighed. Just when he thought a conversation was making sense, something invariably reminded him of how little he truly understood. He was weary of confusion and misunderstandings, and of lacking the necessary context to grasp mortal complexity. The promise of Kirkwall, at least, was a much needed balm on an otherwise trying day.

"Sorry about that," Anders said, all smiles as he returned. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

Though Justice tried to coax an explanation from Anders regarding his earlier behavior, the mage simply would not budge, and Justice finally let it go. And so they spent another afternoon holed up in the library. This time, however, they were not studying about spirits and the Fade, but discussing their options for slipping away. It wouldn't be long now. Soon, they would sail across the sea to start a new, free life in Kirkwall.


End file.
